


gather up your sorrows and sell them for gold

by moodyme



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish-centric, Canon Compliant, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Missing Scene, Multi, Reverse Chronology, Tarot, but it probably just feels disjointed sorry, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodyme/pseuds/moodyme
Summary: Missing scenes between Adam and Persephone.
Relationships: Adam Parrish & Persephone Poldma, Adam Parrish/Blue Sargent, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28
Collections: TRC Spring Fling





	gather up your sorrows and sell them for gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semicolonsandsimiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semicolonsandsimiles/gifts).



> semicolonsandsmiles / Hannah - I really hope I was able to do justice to the prompt 💖 It was such a joy writing these missing scenes!
> 
> Title taken from 'Golden Moments' by James Taylor.

Adam could admit to being confused.

He had gone to sleep, after all, next to Ronan. That was something he knew, something he still remembered. Something that was ordinary. And yet, somehow, he had woken up on the banks of a river.

This was not ordinary.

Maybe, once upon a time, when they were young - well, _younger_ \- it would have been. Adam knew he had lost time at least one other time. But it hadn't happened in years, and why it should start again now, he didn't know.

He took stock of his surroundings, trying to remember if there had been a place like this in Cabeswater, or one of the other places where they had, in Gansey's words, " _Had their marvelously preternatural adventures."_ But this river was decidedly unfamiliar to him.

"It should be, it's my river."

Adam hadn't heard that voice in years, but he recognized it instantly.

"Persephone," Adam smiled, turning to find her standing behind him.

"You didn't choose the easy way, did you?"

"No," Adam sighed. He thought of Aglionby, of Harvard, of his current job. Of the thousand things in between. Of Ronan. Unlike a river, Adam Parrish would never choose what was easy. "I seemed to have chosen the hard way."

Persephone stepped closer before she sat of the ground. She patted the spot in front of her and Adam mirrored her position, crossing his knees. Adam knew that the deck of tarot cards she pulled from a velvet pouch were laying in his bedside table at home, that she herself had given them to him. "And that makes you happy?" 

Adam smiled, thought of a dozen things he could say, but could only manage, "Yes."

"I'm glad," Persephone said, and turned over the first card.

The Magician.

They shared a knowing look, as if to say, _of course._

She turned over another card, and Adam was at first surprised to see the nine of cups. The longer he thought about though, it _felt_ right. He wanted, with a old, aching, hope that it was. 

Finally, she turned over the last card, revealing the Moon. In reverse.

Adam heaved a heavy sigh.

"You know what these mean," Persephone said, "I don't need to tell you."

"No," Adam agreed, "But what am I supposed to let go of this time?"

"The past."

Adam could feel his very soul recoil at the idea. He thought of Robert, something he didn't do very often these days, with nothing but disgust. Disgust, and something darker.

"I won't forgive them," he said. "I don't have to."

Persephone reached up, as though she would touch his face, or brush his hair behind his ear, but her touch never came. Couldn't come, probably. She said, "No, you don't. But I wasn't talking about that."

"Then I don't know the cards as well as you thought I did. As well as _I_ thought I did."

"There isn't something else you need to let go of?"

"No," Adam hesitated, and lied, "There isn't."

She looked behind him, over his shoulder, before settling her gaze on him again. "It will be hard to carry."

"I thought we agreed that I wasn't like a river, that I _like_ choosing the harder path?"

Persephone laughed, and stood. "Maybe we did."

"Are you leaving?" Adam asked, and made to stand as well, but she motioned for him to stay where he was.

"The cards," she replied, ignoring the question, "Were saying two things. To let go, yes. But also... that it's done. You had all the tools, you used them. Now you can rest, for awhile. And throw away the idea that you didn't fulfill your task."

Adam wanted to thank her, but could already feel himself returning to his body.

* * *

Persephone was silently watching him.

Adam tried to convince himself that the silence wasn’t judgmental - that Persephone wasn’t judgmental - but he wasn’t having any success. He thought of those moments in cartoons when a joke fell flat or when the enthusiastic reception that was expected was met with disappointment, and how those moments were filled when the sounds of chirping crickets. That’s what he felt like now. Like Persephone was patiently waiting, and he was the chorus of crickets.

How fucking pathetic.

He was supposed to be finding the next place in the Ley Line that needed fixing, but so far, nothing had happened. Frustrated, he tightened his eyelids and fists. If he just concentrated hard enough, focused more earnestly, then maybe- there!

“What do you see?” Persephone whispered.

“A river?” Adam said. It was water, anyway. Probably. And it _felt_ like it was moving. River made sense. Maybe.

“Is it a calm river?” Persephone pressed, her voice as soft as it ever was.

“No,” Adam hesitated, “It feels… nervous? Angry?”

“That’s worrisome.”

Adam didn’t know what to make of that - the idea of a nervous or angry river being worrisome. Hell, the idea of feelings in connection to nature should have felt bizarre, but for some reason he couldn’t examine too closely, it was only natural. Normal.

“Worrisome how?” Adam wondered. The image was gone, so he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun.

He glanced down at the tarot cards splayed on the dry grass and found only one face up. Frustratingly, it was the two of pentacles. The card said ‘ _Wait, don’t make a decision just yet’_. 

Adam was so tired of waiting.

Persephone hummed, gently tracing the card. Her neon yellow nails clashed with the muted and faded colors of the tarot cards. Finally, she said “The river will always choose the smoothest course.”

Adam scrunched up his nose, confused.

Persephone glanced up at him with a soft smile, “I got that from _Pocahontas._ ”

“Oh,” Adam muttered, “But what does that have to do with the river I saw, and the two of pentacles?”

“Have you heard of Heraclitus? ‘ _No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.’”_ Persephone began turning over the other cards that were still face down, revealing the nine of swords and the page of wands in reverse. “What do they say?”

Adam wished she hadn’t asked. “That the river isn’t what I should be focusing on?”

“Yes,” She sighed, gathering the cards, “But also to trust yourself. To stop worrying.” Persephone handed him the cards. “Try again, and let go of your fear.”

Adam wondered if such a thing were possible.

But. He thought he could at least _try_.

  
  


* * *

Adam felt supremely uncomfortable in Blue’s home. 

Not because anyone in the house seemed threatening, or because anyone in the house was trying to make him uncomfortable. He just had an unshakable sense of not belonging.

He felt the same way in D.C, in the Gansey home.

He felt the same way at Aglionby.

He felt the same way in the trailer park.

Adam Parrish was always feeling between worlds.

He wasn’t like the people in the trailer park, with their little thoughts and little dreams and little plans. 

He wasn’t like the students at Aglionby, with their carefree thoughts and their carefree dreams and their carefree plans.

He wasn’t like the rich people in D.C, who had no need for thoughts or dreams or plans, since they had already been handed to them on golden platters.

Blue’s house was a jarring amalgamation of too quiet and too loud, too steady and too wild, too strange and too ordinary. Adam knew, in his heart of hearts, that the thoughts and dreams and plans of the people in it were just as mixed. Just as accepted.

That thought made something like longing curdle in his stomach. This place didn’t look like the end goal of his own dreams, but he thinks that, maybe, it could have been in a different time. If he were a slightly different person.

All this united in making him uncomfortable.

The fact that it was also the home of his maybe-kinda-sorta-hopefully girlfriend tipped it over into _supremely_ uncomfortable territory, even if he wasn’t here to see Blue, even if Blue wasn’t even home right now.

He steeled himself with the knowledge that he was supposed to be here, that he was expected here, and knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman he didn't recognize. She waved him through and gave him vague directions to Persephone's room upstairs.

Persephone was waiting outside her door when he made it to the top of the stairs. "I heard you come in," she explained, tugging him in.

Adam sat at the cluttered desk. He glanced at the top paper on the nearest stack of papers on it and found the words ' _Astral projection in the Arthurian mythos???'_ circled multiple times in red ink.

"Shall we get started?" Persephone asked, getting out her velvet pouch from a drawer in the desk.

Persephone flipped through the cards, covering the names so Adam could practice recognizing them by sight. She had insisted that it was important to learn them that way, but it just reminded Adam of studying with flashcards. Thankfully, he only stumbled over the names of a few of the major arcana, confusing the Hierophant for the Hermit.

When they were finished going through the cards, Persephone congratulated him for doing so well, "It takes longer for most people," she said, "You're a natural. Really, you have a gift for the cards."

"Um," Adam said, and shrugged. He didn't want to admit that he had been thinking about the tarot deck in most of his spare moments, as few as they were. "All the minor arcana are easy if you can count to ten and know a few symbols."

"True," she agreed. "But since you already know them, we can move on to your next lesson."

This was why Adam had come, to learn how to make the Ley Line right.

He thought that, maybe, once he did all he could to repair the Ley Line, then maybe, they could awaken Glendower, and Gansey could be saved.

* * *

Adam was _fairly_ certain that the woman next to the car with a blaring horn had no idea what she was doing. She was standing, peering into the hood of the dusty blue Ford with a quizzical expression, apparently unfazed by the loud horn.

He glanced down at the ground, weighing his options.

Probably, her horn fuse was busted.

Probably, the lady had no idea how to fix it.

With a sigh, he propped his bike up against the side of the grocery store and, ignoring the glares the few other shoppers shot at the woman, trudged over.

"Do you need some help?" Adam called over the horn, tacking on a polite 'ma'am' after he remembered that politeness went a long way with most folk.

"We all need help," She responded. Adam had to strain to hear her. "No man is an island."

She looked like a hippie he had seen on t.v once, what with her flowing dress and braided hair, but she sounded like some of the people at the trailer park, the one's his mom clicked her tongue about, ranting about how they had fried their own brains. Adam wanted to walk away, and would have if she hadn't said, "But, yes. I need help with this particular thing. I can't make it stop."

Adam had held the flashlight for his dad while he fumbled around on engines, and last summer he had read all the auto and mechanics magazines in the carport. So he had a fairly firm grasp on what he was doing. He was able to find the fuse box relatively easily, and finding the wire for the horn was a cinch after that. 

"Wonderful," the lady sighed, once the roar of the horn had been brought to an abrupt end. She reached into a flowery bag and pulled out a few crumpled bills. Adam stiffened. His fathers voice echoed in his mind, the oft repeated exclamation how Parrish's didn't take nothing from nobody. That handouts were for the lazy, and weak, and pathetic. That's what the money she offered felt like. A handout. It had been too easy, barely more than a full minute, to do. That kind of thing didn't even qualify for something that could be considered work.

"No thank you, ma'am," Adam said, making sure he didn't grit his teeth. 

She smiled at him, said, "Alright. But you really did help me, young man. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Adam replied, already taking a step back. His mom had sent him to pick up a can of green beans, and if he dawdled any longer she would know. And if she knew, she would tell dad and _then_ there would be hell to pay. "You should stop by a mechanics, though. That's only a temporary solution."

"I will," She said and tilted her head. She was looking at Adam like she was studying him, and he hated it. "Before you go, may I offer some - advice. You aren't like a river. When the time comes, and the choice has to be made, it's alright to choose the harder option. Remember that."

"Okay," Adam mumbled.

He turned on his heel and quickly walked into the store, wanting to get away from her. It was scary, he thought, what some stuff could do to the mind.

Adam never saw her watch him as he entered the store, never saw her smile, and hum to herself. 

She had found a curious being, and was looking forward to meeting him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> (BTW, the 'thing' Adam and Persephone are talking about carrying is, in my own head, Noah. But, y'all can decide for yourself what they're talking about.)


End file.
